


I'm Lucky You've Been Keeping Me Around

by kinniemobile



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Minor Violence, No actual violence but Tommy imagines something kinda gruesome, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, SHIPPERS DNI, THATS A TAG? FUCK YEAH, Takes place directly after the festival where Tommy is sitting alone on the bench, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), clingyduo my beloved, clingytwt hii
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:01:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinniemobile/pseuds/kinniemobile
Summary: Nobody needed him, and that’s why he felt like his exile wasn’t over.In exile, he’d realized so many things he wished he didn’t have to know. He realized how low of a priority he was to people he had thought of as his closest friends, to people he would’ve fought for, to people he would’ve died for. To people he just wanted to hold close to his chest and forget everything that had happened and forget he knew that they didn’t care. So he could pretend maybe, maybe for a second it was okay.Not people.A person.The other side of the bench was cold.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 222





	I'm Lucky You've Been Keeping Me Around

**Author's Note:**

> Title from compass by the neighborhood.

The other side of the bench was cold.

The entire bench had been cold, actually, before Tommy had warmed up his side by practically launching himself onto it in exhaustion. 

Today had been hell on Earth, while simultaneously releasing him from what he had known to have the same title before. He was freed from exile, now that everyone was against Dream, and he had complete free roam of L’manberg without any repercussions from the man in the mask.

However, it felt like his exile had not ended. 

Which was odd, you’d think, considering his exile was keeping him out of L’manberg, and now he could freely roam. How else would you end an exile any more obvious than that?

That’s what Tommy had thought, originally. Originally, on his first day of exile, he had assumed that the second he was able to step foot in L’manberg again without his life on the line because of the green bastard, that his exile would be over and everything would resume as it was before. Everything would be solved. 

He was wrong. Of course, he was wrong, Tommy thought because these days it seemed there wasn’t a time in the world where he wasn’t. He was always wrong.

He thought Tubbo would never even think to exile him, that it was ridiculous to even worry about it. Of course, Tommy had done something stupid, but he always did stupid things. He was a child. So was Tubbo, hence why Tubbo used to partake in the acts with him. What had changed?

A lot.

A lot had changed, and Tommy didn’t want to realize this before, but when he was practically forced to realize it for days on end, he decided he had to come to terms with the fact. Things had changed. Tubbo was president now, Tubbo had picked his country over him, Tubbo didn’t come to visit once. Practically nobody did.

Sure, he had an occasional recurring visitor, but Tommy knew it was out of pity. He wasn’t stupid. He had been pitied so, so many times - and it was easy to pick it out from the crowd of kindness, simply because he knew that there would never be one. Nobody did things for Tommy to be kind, they never had. They never would. They did them because they pitied him, they always, had.

In the past, Tommy had always thought people were doing things out of the kindness of their hearts. That Tommy had friends around every corner, wanting to support him and want to help him fight for his causes that he always held deep in his heart. Whether those causes were the discs or L’manberg or his pets or anything he nestled his determination into, he had assumed that those that he considered his friends would understand the importance of these things to him, and that they were helping him to be kind because of such understanding.

He was wrong.

He knew he was wrong the second he got into exile, but it only truly surfaced after the party, when nobody showed up.

If people cared about him the way he had assumed they did - they would have shown it the one time he needed it more than ever. The one time he needed his friends to come to his aid, not to give him physical items but emotional support. He just wanted someone to hug him, tell him he’d be okay, tell him this wouldn’t be forever and that they were fighting for him to come back because he was their friend and they needed him.

Nobody needed him.

If they did, they would’ve fought for him. They would have dug their nails into the dirt, growling and biting and launching at whatever was stopping them from getting to the thing they needed, because they needed it so bad that they would go crazy if they weren’t to get it right that second. They would’ve told Dream to fuck off, would’ve pulled that stupid mask right off his face and then proceed to wack him over the head with it so many times that his skull would cave in, and he would die on the floor in a pile of blood that nobody would grieve over. 

Nobody needed him, and that’s why he felt like his exile wasn’t over.

In exile, he’d realized so many things he wished he didn’t have to know. He realized how low of a priority he was to people he had thought of as his closest friends, to people he would’ve fought for, to people he would’ve died for. To people he just wanted to hold close to his chest and forget everything that had happened and forget he knew that they didn’t care. So he could pretend maybe, maybe for a second it was okay. 

Not people.

A person.

He realized how low of a priority he was to Tubbo. Tubbo, who he would’ve fought for. To Tubbo, who he would’ve died for. To Tubbo, who he just wanted to hold close to his chest and forget everything that had happened, and forget he knew that Tubbo didn’t care. So he could pretend maybe, maybe for a second it was okay. 

The other side of the bench was cold.

“The discs were worth more than you ever were!”  
That was a lie.

“You betrayed me!”

That was a lie.

“You’re the shit friend.”

That was a lie.

The discs weren’t worth more than Tubbo, they never were. If Dream had asked him to choose, he would have chosen Tubbo. He’d always choose Tubbo. Why didn’t Tubbo choose him?

Tubbo didn’t betray him, though. Tommy had done something stupid, and Tubbo had finally gotten sick of him. It wasn’t betrayal, it was what was going to happen from the start. It didn’t surprise Tommy, even if the look on his face when the words slipped out of Tubbo’s mouth like poison burning through his chest said otherwise. He knew it was going to happen from the day he found Tubbo on the street, from the day he carefully showed him his hand and introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m Tommy!” He had said, flashing a smile with two front teeth missing and a bandaid plastered on his nose. “I think we’re going to be best friends,” he continued, before Tubbo, as scared as he was, slowly put his hand into the other’s, and let him lift him out of the box he had been sitting in. 

He knew that he would get sick of him. 

Everyone had.

Wilbur had started ignoring him at some point, during their time in Pogtopia. Wilbur had gotten sick of him. 

Phil and Techno had gotten sick of him ages ago, Techno especially, and only recently had he gotten sick of him for the second time. 

So no, it wasn’t betrayal, because Tommy knew it was bound to happen. He just didn’t think it would happen this fast. 

Tubbo wasn’t the shit friend. He’d never been because Tommy had always been the one to spew insults at him. Tommy had always been the one to need Tubbo’s comfort, he was the one to burden Tubbo, and Tubbo’s only repayment that he got for this was Tommy’s hot-head. No matter how many times Tubbo had reassured him that he didn’t mind, that it didn’t bother him - while Tommy sobbed into his shirt and apologized hundreds of times, told him he should leave and that he deserved so much better - Tommy knew it wasn’t true. It couldn’t have been. Tommy had always been the shit friend.

And he still was.

The other side of the bench was cold, and he knew that it was meant to be like that from the beginning, but Tubbo had finally realized it, and he had finally moved onto something better than whatever the hell Tommy had offered him. (He had given him nothing. He was worth nothing.)

The blonde gave a bitter smile, unshed tears shining in his eyes as he looked at the empty side of the bench. The silence seeping into his head like venom, while at the same time drilling a hole into his lungs. 

Tubbo would be happier now. Even if Tommy was back, he hoped he had insulted Tubbo enough in the community house that he’d finally realize he wasn’t worth the time and the effort, and Tubbo would stay away for good. Tommy had seen him stay away in exile, though, so he knew that shouldn’t be much of a hard task.

Apparently, he was wrong.

He was always wrong.

Tommy had decided it was more comfortable for him to hide from the world, to shove his face into his knees and wrap himself up into a Tommy-sized ball on his side of the bench, silently sobbing and shaking to himself as he wished to just be back in exile. He’d rather be somewhere without people he only seemed to hurt than be the burden he’d always been for the second time around.

That’s why he had nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the bench creak, and the sound of music flowing through his ears, causing his shaking to subside only the slightest. 

He didn’t want to look up, because he knew who it was the second a hand was placed gently on his shoulder. There was only one person who knew that to comfort him, you had to be slow and steady - like you were approaching a wild animal about to either run or attack, and you needed it to do neither of the two. 

Why couldn’t he just stay away? He’d had no problem with it in exile when he actually wanted him to be there despite knowing how much he didn’t deserve his company. Why, the one time he had bittersweetly come to terms with the fact that Tubbo had finally realized how awful he was, did he have to turn around and reverse it all again?

“Tommy,” he had started, as softly as he could. 

“Tommy, talk to me, please.” He begged.  
The other side of the bench was warm.

“Tommy, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I’m - I’m not angry at you if that’s why you’re upset. I’m not. I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. I’m sorry for not coming when you needed me, I - I didn’t know you needed me that bad. I wish you’d tell me what happened -”

“Stop.”

“What?”

Tommy removed his head from his knees, staring at Tubbo with the saddest expression Tubbo had ever seen him give, and the brunette felt his heart threaten to pull itself out of his chest and drop down the hill in front of them, only to fracture into millions of tiny pieces. 

With a deep breath, Tommy continued, his voice shaking and a ball tied in the center of his stomach, filled with emotions he couldn’t possibly be named if he tried. 

“I’m not upset because of what you did. I’m upset because of what you’re doing right now. I’m upset because - because you and everyone else, they won’t stop pitying me. I keep begging them to stop, I keep asking them in the nicest way I can to just - to just stop. I know they don’t like me. I know you don’t want me around anymore and I know that everyone here doesn’t either. I can see it in everyone’s face, they make it so,” He let out a laugh, though there was nothing funny about this, “So obvious. At least - at least in exile you all didn’t pretend to care, even though I needed you to so, so bad. Now, that I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that none of you do, you’ve all gone back to pretending. You could’ve at least put a bit more effort into the act when I needed it most.”

Tubbo swallowed hard, immediately grabbing Tommy’s shoulder to force him into one of the tightest hugs he thinks he’s ever given someone in his life. The blonde froze, then quickly tried to squirm his way out, crying and yelling and protesting in every way possible. He choked out tears as he hit Tubbo’s chest repeatedly, begging him to let go, begging him, and yelling at him to go away, to drop the act. Begging him with everything in his soul to just stop pretending for once in his life that Tommy was worth anything more than the dirt they walked on.

Until he wasn’t. Until Tommy got tired out, and just lay there on Tubbo’s chest and choked on his own sobs, even though there were no tears left to cry. He pulled and grabbed at Tubbo’s shirt with fear surging through his body, fear that if he were to somehow let go he would lose him again and this time, he really wouldn’t come back. 

“Tommy,” Tubbo began, setting his head atop the other’s and petting his back lightly with one hand whilst the other rested by the bottom of his hair. “Tommy, I’ve always cared about you, you know that, don’t you? I know you know that, even if you don’t want to believe it for whatever reason. It was stupid of me to exile you, and it was stupid of me to not even visit you properly when I did. Dream had told me you hated me, and I had believed him, and I know he told you something stupid like that too.”

Tommy shuffled, adjusting himself so his face would be properly hidden in the fabric of Tubbo’s shirt. “Please know, Tommy,” the brunette continued, “That anything Dream said wasn’t true. It wasn’t, I promise, I’d never do anything just to hurt you and Dream is a lying son of a bitch with no morals whatsoever.” 

He felt Tommy smile against his shirt at the insult, although it faded quickly. “I don’t know what happened to you in exile, but I should’ve known because I should’ve checked up on you. For that, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for everything,”

Tommy shuffled, looking directly at Tubbo and opening his mouth to speak, before Tubbo quickly continued, “And I know you are too, although there isn’t much you need to apologize for, even though I know you think there is. We’re okay now, though, okay? We’re gonna fight him, we’re gonna kick his ass - we’re gonna get L’manberg back and it’ll be you and me against the world, okay? Like it always has been,”

Tubbo didn’t know when he’d begun to cry, but he kept a smile on his face throughout the entirety of his speech, and he wasn’t planning to stop. “You can tell me what happened in exile if you want, at any time. Or, you don’t have to. It’s up to you, and either way, I’ll be here for you, okay? I won’t leave this time. I promise.”

It was silent for a bit, and that was alright with the both of them. They were comfortable, they had each other, right there, in their arms. They were safe. Nobody would hurt them, at least not for now.

“Thank you,” Tommy finally said, his voice hoarse but genuine. He removed himself from the hug, and sat up, holding Tubbo by the shoulders and staring directly into his eyes, noticing the visible confusion at the actions that his best friend could feel.

“Thank you,” he said again, this time stronger, as he stared at the only thing he cared about directly in the eyes and made sure that he felt it.

He did.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter is @dsmpwilbur


End file.
